They walked toward the cabin and ran down the companionway. At the lower doorway they paused and then Tom grinned.
On one side of the room was Dan Baxter with his hands in the air. On the other side was Hans, with a pistol in each hand.
"Ton't dare to mofe," Hans was saying. "Of you do I vos put oxactly fourteen shots into your poty, ain't it!"
"I am not moving," grumbled Baxter. "Didn't I tell you I am sick of the whole thing, Dutchy? I don't want to fight, or anything."
"Tan Paxter, you chust remember dot old saying, beoples vot lif in glass houses ton't got no right to tell fish stories," answered Hans, gravely.
"Hans, that's a good one!" roared Tom, coming forward. "Say, you're a whole regiment in yourself, ain't you?"
"Yah, I vos so goot like ten or sefenteen soljers, alretty!" answered the German youth, proudly. "Paxter, he ton't got avay from me, not much!"
Hans lowered his pistols and Dan Baxter was glad enough to put down his hands. Dick glanced into the staterooms and saw that the two sailors were still sleeping heavily.
"We'll throw them down into the hold," said the eldest Rover. "That will keep them out of mischief, when they awake."
"Vot apout dem men?" asked Hans, anxiously.